


Still Learning Every Day

by Nejinee



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, I promise, M/M, Making Out, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Content, Strippers & Strip Clubs, not as stripper tropey as it sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 12:58:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13636767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nejinee/pseuds/Nejinee
Summary: “Oh, don’t tell me you fell in love with a stripper. Come on, Steve. I’m too tired to go into Manhattan and fight some asshat for your virtue. Or would I have to dance for it?”--Steve loves Bucky, always has. He just never figured any other men would turn his head until he goes to a strip club and learns that it's not just women who can be strippers these days.





	Still Learning Every Day

“Cap, don’t freak out, okay?” Tony drawled as he parted a heavy purple velvet curtain and waved them into the darkened hallway.

Steve rolled his eyes and followed behind Natasha and Clint.

“I know strip clubs weren’t your thing in the forties, but we’ve moved on since then,” Tony continued from somewhere behind.

Steve noted the dramatics of the establishment they’d entered. It was obviously high-end and high-tech, with security bristling at the edges. Cameras were pinned to all corners and the hallway they went down wove around like a snake, with doors every so often, leading to god-knows-where.

“These ladies work hard for their money, Steven,” Tony prattled on some more. “So don’t get weird.”

The hallway finally came to an end, with a petite security guard who donned an earpiece and a sharp expression. She held open the last curtain. The dull throb that had been vibrating through the walls now made sense.

The large room opened up before them, filled with partiers and tables scattered all around.

Steve blinked. Pink and purple lights flickered and swung about, highlighting the many groups of people mingling and apparently revelling in the space of such an …odd place.

Waitresses and waiters walked around with trays of drinks, not clad in gold hot pants and roller-skates like Tony had threatened him with. They wore sharply tailored uniforms and were clearly adept at hearing orders over the din of the crowd and the music.

“Over here,” Nat pulled Steve further into the room, weaving them through the varying tables and velvet ropes cordoning off certain areas.

Steve was mesmerized by the stage where two women were winding themselves sinuously down metal poles _upside-down._

_“Pole dancing_ ,” Steve whispered, like the act was some fable he’d heard about in school.

“Stark party, welcome,” a young man bowed and waved the group into a round table with booth seats. Steve awkwardly scooched in after Natasha. His legs were too long for this seating. It happened a lot when he and Bucky would go out for lunch in the neighbourhood.

“You know,” Rhodey muttered over the music, “we could have just done this at Burger King.”

“But then where’s Tony going to trumpet loudly about his preferred status in high-end clubs he invested immense capital?” Natasha leaned over Steve to respond.

“I’m just saying,” Rhodey sighed, picking up a wood-etched menu. “It’s a damn Tuesday afternoon. It’s not right.”

“When is anything Tony does _right?_ ” Clint said with a smirk. “And why’s Tuesday no good?”

Steve looked over the menu, his stomach growling its desire. He was _starving_. Tony had only lured him here with the promise of great food. 

Here.

Steve looked up, the women on the poles now on the stage, bowing elegantly in their sparkly … outfits. The two of them held hands and all but skipped off the stage like woodland elves.

“What is this place exactly?” Steve said loudly.

Natasha gave him a _look_. He rolled his eyes and flapped his hands. “I _know_ it’s a strip club! I mean, what’s the draw? Why are we here?”

“Why?” Natasha smirked, “Why not?”

Steve shrugged, “It’s a bit…odd, isn’t it? Or am I about to be judged for my inherent ignorance once again?”

Natasha shrugged and eyed her own menu.

“You got a problem with this place?” Clint leaned past her. Steve expected a cynical look, but Clint just seemed genuinely intrigued.

“I don’t know…?” Steve put his hands up, palms to the sky. “I just don’t get why the Avengers boardroom wouldn’t suffice.”

“Look, Steve. Cap!” Tony cried, coming around the table to stand in front of them. “Naked ladies!”

He was grinning like an idiot and Steve really had to rein in the impulse to flick his nose.

“I can see that,” Steve replied drily. “I’m not blind.”

Tony waved his arms at the stage where three women were starting up a new, modern, electric dance. One had torn her leggings off dramatically and another was peeling off detachable sleeves. All of them wore strange bras that had no fabric covering their breasts. All of them had dancer bodies: taut and lean.

“Don’t get awkward now,” Tony laughed.

Steve just stared at him. “Did you just bring us here, hoping to try and make me uncomfortable?” he said.

Tony tapped his own nose with his index finger and grinned.

Steve sighed, “Why?”

“Because he thinks you’re not sexual, and to Tony, having a sense of sexual privacy and/or modesty is weird.” Natasha said, eyes also watching the dancers.

“Well…” Tony leaned on the table, still wearing his sunglasses. “I just wanted to see you blush, or something. I’m not questioning your tastes, or whatever, Cap.”

Steve glared, “And why would I blush?” he said.

His stomach rumbled loudly. He hadn’t eaten in three hours. He was supposed to be home, having a late lunch with Bucky, like they always did, before heading out to train in the gym down the street. He _should_ be in Brooklyn with his boyfriend, but instead he’s in _fucking_ Manhattan getting yapped at by Tony Stark and he was _hungry_.

Tony turned to the side, arms pointing back at the stage. The three women were now woven together like some human celtic knot. It was …interesting.

“What?” Steve said, eyes still on them even while he chewed Tony out. “You think this is weird for me?”

Tony tipped his head skyward. “Are you not going to even _pretend_ to be scandalized?”

“Why?” Steve looked at him. “Because three women are half naked in front of a group of strangers? That they’re obviously working, and we’re just customers in their domain?”

“Okay, _fine_ ,” Tony huffed and moved back to slide in beside Rhodey. “There’s no need for some social justice rant.”

“Look–“ Steve twisted.

“Guys!” Natasha said, snapping her fingers. “Shut up, Lucille is on.”

The four men turned to look at her.

“What?” she blinked, “I know her. She’s an old friend.”

“Which one?” Clint leaned in perhaps a little too close. Nat pushed at his face.

“The one in the pink bob,” She uttered.

They all turned their gazes back to the sultry show onstage.

Lucille was beautiful. Tall and lean, and her gently slanting eyes were heavily outlined, her lips were painted a deep red. She was currently entwined with the other two women, making it unclear where their limbs ended and their dance began.

This wasn’t what Steve had expected of stripping. The new movies he’d been force-fed by all and sundry kept barking about lap dances and glitter and dirty, smelly environments where women were treated as purely ornamental objects by disgusting men.

This was beauty ad grace in dance form. They were extremely flexible, and talented and worked well together. Steve could respect this art.

Not that he wouldn’t respect anything else. It was just…surprising.

“How do you know her?” Steve said.

Nat smiled as their waiter reappeared with their drinks and Steve’s mountain of food.

He zeroed in on _that_.

“Cheers,” Clint murmured, sipping at his sparkly blue drink.

“Well?” Tony said.

“We worked together,” Natasha said. “I heard she’d started working here, so it’s why I agreed to come on this dumbass jaunt.”

“Wait, you–“ Tony said, but was waved off by Rhodey.

Steve dug into the wings before him. He got flak regularly about how much he ate. At least at home, Bucky wouldn’t complain or smirk. He’d just fight Steve for his portion.

They’d fine-tuned their meals and shopping trips. It had taken a while, but they just had to understand that groceries were never going to cost what they did before and that they’d have to accept the giant numbers at the end of every receipt. Plus, it wasn’t like they didn’t have money to spend.

“Whoa, slow down,” Rhodey said.

“Don’t,” Nat cut in. “Leave him.”

And Steve was grateful, again, for the existence of one Natasha Romanov.

Steve ate up two pounds of buffalo wings, almost an entire garlic loaf, sharing only one slice with Clint, and the gigantic bowl of pasta Henry, their waiter, had gifted him.

He was almost finished when the new act started up. A loud drumroll had the crowd roaring and clapping. The three ladies were gone.

Steve licked his thumb, stray buffalo sauce eking its way down his skin. It really was delicious.

The drumroll echoed louder around the room, hyping the crowd. Then it stopped.

Absolute silence settled, like everyone had stopped breathing.

Spotlights flashed, shining brightly onto a single stool upon which a curvy woman sat, legs crossed.

Steve watched her smile out at the crowd. She wore a black leotard with revealing cutouts and a jacket with long tails that fell behind her, almost touching the wooden stage.

The music thrummed suddenly and burst around them, lights flashing and flickering in a mesmerizing display.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a voice boomed over them. “Introducing, the one and only _Marielle and the Trailblazers.”_

The crowd clapped loudly and Steve wondered how busy it was in here on the weekend, never mind a weird Tuesday afternoon.

Marielle was beautiful. She was heavier than any dancer he’d seen, and she was sleek, moving gently off her stool to begin her dance. Her curves and dark skin were accented by her outfit as she swayed to a jazzy beat. Her dark hair was pulled back into a neat bun, and she smiled wider, twirling a cane in her left hand. She was barefoot, and moved elegantly across the stage, getting up to her toes, arms out, and twirling around to the beat. The tempo was jaunty, almost playful and not at all what Steve expected.

She was an excellent dancer. She took a few sexy poses, flicking her coattails devilishly here and there. Her leotard definitely did not cover much of her rather robust derrière. 

Someone nudged him.

Steve looked down at Natasha. She was holding a wet wipe and had one eyebrow crooked.

“You’re a mess,” she whispered and he took the wipe, finishing up with his fingers.

Steve thanked her quietly, pushing his now empty plate away.

He hadn’t expected to be so taken by this beautiful woman. Marielle, _well_ , she certainly knew how to move her body.

The beat flexed and bounced with her and she threw aside her coat, causing cheers across the room to break out.

Sure, women were amazingly stunning. Steve had never denied that. He’d always been thrown by them.

And he sometimes got his head turned. Maybe not as often as Bucky (who still retained every ounce of charm he’d been brought up with) but often _enough_.

After all, Steve only counted himself as bisexual by the default setting of _Bucky Barnes: experiment best friend gone awry._ He’d always had a thing for Bucky, even if it took him until the age of twenty-four to really _get_ it, but still. Steve blamed Bucky for that. Bucky was attractive to _everyone_. He just was. He was the anomaly in a crowd of boring regulars. It wasn’t Steve’s fault that his best friend had just grown more handsome every year. He was the most exposed person to Bucky, after all. Even after Azzano Bucky had somehow appeared more beautiful to Steve. And after D.C.? Getting Bucky _back?_ Well, Steve was done for. Forever. Which was fine, really. He was happy to finally have his man back. He could lie in bed with him, feed him, watch old movies with him and laugh with him until the bitter end (whenever that may come).

But it had always _only_ been Bucky.

Marielle’s music rose and the crowd clapped louder. She grinned as if she knew something Steve didn’t. She wiggled her hips, then winked, tugging at the curtain behind her.

It fell in one heavy sweep, making the audience gasp as two men were found standing there in nothing but skimpy briefs in strange metallic colours.

Steve blinked and let out a breath of surprise.

Men.

There were men on the stage.

“What the–“ he said, voice oddly hoarse. He cleared his throat.

The two men were muscled and handsome and they _danced_.

Marielle guided them around the stage in a performance of twirls and jumps.

The men played the roles of doting lovers, falling to their knees for her, lifting her, caressing her cheeks, her legs, her hands.

It was so…mesmerizing.

Steve could feel his face flushing, like he’d been caught in a prank. Like back when he and Bucky were captured by old Mr. Solomon when they tried to sneak caramels from his store… and Bucky would just _run for it_ while Steve stuttered apologies and never quite scrambled fast enough out the door.

He felt like a kid again, witnessing naked bodies for the first time.

The men onstage…they were…beautiful. With sharp cheekbones and gently styled curls and thick, strong legs, not unlike…well, Bucky.

“Steve,” Nat nudged him again. “You’re drooling.”

He patted at his face, not daring to look away. The music was thrilling and the performers onstage were beyond talented. Steve was speechless.

Something dabbed at his lips and he nodded.

The trio danced together, shifting their hips from side to side in unison, making the crowd laugh. They shimmied and shook. The men flexed their arms, their abdomens and sometimes, their asses and Marielle fluttered about them with not a care in the world. It was like some Greek comedy in sweet, flowing movements. Was the national ballet like this? Steve would have to check. Tony had season passes.

Finally, as the music slowed, the trio settled into a pile on the stage, Marielle, dressed in the remnants of her piecemeal leotard, sitting delicately on the legs of both men. They held her and rested their heads on her shoulders as if she were nothing more than a voluptuous Goddess sent down to bless their existence.

The lights blinked out.

Steve’s heart was beating slow in his chest, but strong.

“Wha–“ he breathed out in a rush.

The house lights came on and the crowd cheered.

Marielle and her two partners held hands and bowed gracefully.

Steve tried to get to his feet, but slammed his thighs into the table, almost heaving it over. He winced and clapped louder to compensate.

They bowed again and he cheered some more.

“Amazing,” he said, “what a show!”

Then he looked at his friends and paused.

They were all staring at him.

“What?” he asked bluntly.

“Uh, nothing,” Tony muttered quickly. “Just, uh, who knew?”

“Maybe we can get backstage to meet them?” Natasha added.

Steve’s eyes widened. “Is that a _thing_?”

* * *

 

He was finally home.

Home to Brooklyn, home to their tiny townhouse, with its tiny kitchen and their cozy bedroom and backyard.

“Hey,” Bucky said, looking up from cleaning his knives. They were all laid out on the coffee table in some kind of order that Steve was unaware of. Alphabetical? By order of blade size? Favourites?

“Hey,” Steve sighed, slumping into the sofa beside Bucky.

Bucky slowed his hands, still rubbing lubricant into one of a switchblade’s pivot points. “You weren’t gone that long.”

Steve was staring at the ceiling.

“We went to a strip club,” he murmured.

Bucky paused all movement. He looked at Steve, brows rising.

“You went to a dirty bar where women get paid to take off their clothes and flash their undercarriages?” He thought about it some more. “Huh.”

“It was a bit more…Stark,” Steve sighed and rubbed at his jaw. Then he tilted his head and looked at Bucky.

The other man was wearing a denim shirt over a t-shirt. He was in the jeans Steve loved. The ones with the ass-hugging strength of ten soldiers and two rips just under the butt cheeks.

Rips that Steve had accidentally put there and had then made Bucky promise to never throw away.

“What does that mean?” Bucky put his cloth and knife down. He rested his elbows on his knees and watched Steve. “I thought you guys were having some Avengers meeting?”

“Yeah, me too,” Steve sighed dramatically. “but it was a modern-day rich-folks strip club instead. This place was insane, Buck. I mean, it was interesting, but _insane_. Like a circus.”

“Okay,” Bucky smiled that slow smile of his. God, it still made butterflies burst in Steve’s chest. “So you saw some titties?”

Steve made a face and Bucky grinned. “You know I love those,” he purred.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve sighed. “I saw naked women. They were really good dancers, Buck. I think you’d have liked it all. Well, maybe not _all_ , but close.”

Bucky sat back, resting his head on the sofa back, right beside Steve’s. “You’re not telling me something, pal. Normally you’d be bouncing with rage at something like that. Like Stark taking you to a place like that.”

“I agreed to go,” Steve said, eyeing Bucky’s chapped lips.

“Hmm?” Bucky hummed back. He must have been relaxing all day. His hair was clean and his eyes were soft. Steve smiled at that.

“They have male strippers now, Buck,” he blurted.

Bucky blinked. “They do? What? Really?”

Steve peered at his best friend critically. “You knew.”

Bucky pouted and then laughed. “Yeah. So?”

“Have you been to a male strip club?” Steve asked.

Bucky shook his head, “Nope. Just saw it in a buncha bad movies. Remember the one with the boring British guys?”

Steve frowned.

“No?” Bucky said, “Oh, well, Sam said it was important to watch.”

Bucky thought for a moment. “I’m thinking Sam played me, that ass.”

Steve smiled. “I didn’t know,” he murmured.

Bucky looked at him. “Surprised?”

Steve was quiet, thinking. “I don’t know. I probably shouldn’t be. That wasn’t a thing in our day, was it?”

Bucky shrugged, “How the hell would we know? We’re from Red Hook and we didn’t know anyone who could afford shit like that. Paying people to take their clothes off? We barely had enough clothes to wear, never mind take off, remember?”

Bucky shifted even closer. He took Steve’s hand in his, rubbing at the skin with his calloused thumb. He blinked at Steve with those blue eyes of his. “Decent?”

Steve tried _not_ to go red, but going by the look on Bucky’s face, he’d failed miserably.

“That good, huh?” Bucky snickered.

“No,” Steve huffed, “well, maybe.”

Steve pulled his hand free and rested it on Bucky’s leg. He gently rubbed at the soft denim.

“I just…” Steve bit his lip, “I didn’t figure I was…you know…”

Bucky tilted his head. “What?”

Steve waved his free hand in the air. “I thought you were the only guy, Buck.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you fell in love with a _stripper_. Come on, Steve. I’m too tired to go into Manhattan and fight some asshat for your virtue. Or would I have to dance for it?”

“Bucky,” Steve retorted with a frown, “No. God. No. I just…I thought you were the only guy I’d ever…look at twice.”

“And again and again,” Bucky smirked.

“I’m being serious,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “I genuinely did. I never, ever looked at another man the way I look at you. I figured it was _only_ you, not men in general.”

“Well, it sounds a bit more specific than that. You don’t like other men, not all men anyway. You don’t got a thing for Stark, right?”

“Oh _God_ ,” Steve sat up, “Never. He’s way too much like his father.”

Bucky sat up, grabbed Steve’s hand and stood. He pulled Steve to his feet, twisting him to face Bucky.

“Steven Grant Rogers, did you stare at another man’s dick and come to the realization that maybe you like more than one dick?”

“I do only like one!” Steve whined, slipping his hands around Bucky’s waist. “I just thought that was it.”

“So this dancer…”

“There were two,” Steve muttered into Bucky’s shoulder. 

Bucky paused, “ _Okay_ …two. Were they just…handsome, or something?”

“Yeah,” Steve muttered, pressing his nose under Bucky’s ear. God, this man smelled like home.

“Huh,” Bucky said, pressing his hands to the back of Steve’s neck. “well, I’m too old to feel jealous.”

“You don’t gotta be,” Steve rumbled, kissing at the soft skin. Bucky shivered.

“I dunno, maybe I should be,” Bucky rumbled back, his voice dropping low. “My main squeeze is talking about some pretty dick he saw at some dirty club. I dunno, that sounds promising.”

“Bucky,” Steve huffed, puffing up the long hair behind Bucky’s ear. “I’m having a pubescent sexual crisis and I’m turning a hundred years old, this is not normal.”

Bucky laughed and nuzzled Steve’s ear, which only made goosebumps ripple over Steve’s skin. He was always just _that_ much more sensitive.

“Hey, we all gotta deal with the sexiness of others,” Bucky hummed, kissing Steve’s jaw, then his cheek. 

Steve could feel his body stirring. This was the difference Bucky had on the men from the club.

Those men were beautiful. Bucky got him hot and bothered _and_ was beautiful to boot.

“Uh,” Steve breathed and Bucky kissed him, opening his lips with a deft tongue.

Bucky was an excellent kisser. When they’d reunited in the twentieth century, Steve had to take lessons in relearning the art of the make-out. Bucky was an excellent teacher.

“Mmm,” Bucky hummed, turning his head and kissing Steve deeply, his tongue wet and pushy, coaxing Steve’s out to play.

Then Bucky pushed and Steve went, walking backwards through their tiny living room, Bucky’s hands slipping under Steve’s shirt, getting at skin.

They bumped into one doorway, Steve grunting with annoyance. 

“Get rid of that door,” he grumbled, tugging Bucky closer.

Bucky just laughed softly, pushing Steve into the bedroom. They fell awkwardly onto their unmade bed.

“I thought you said you were gonna do laundry,” Steve huffed, staring up at Bucky.

“I got distracted,” Bucky said, crawling over him. He got his fingers on Steve’s shirt and began unbuttoning it.

“By what? Your stupid knives?” Steve retorted, lying lax on the messy sheets.

Bucky eyed him, “No…” he said slowly, peeling the cotton back. He pushed at Steve’s tank top, pressing his hands over Steve’s belly. The hands pushed higher, exposing more skin to Bucky’s roving eyes.

“I got _distracted_ by memories from last week.”

Steve frowned and shivered as Bucky bent down to lick his left nipple. Then bite.

“What happened last week?”

Bucky shrugged, continuing to play with Steve’s nipples, either with his lips or his fingers. It made it very hard for Steve to concentrate.

“Last week Thursday,” Bucky said, biting and sucking. “Eleven AM. You came back from a test fight with Stark’s new suit, remember? Said it had been a helluva workout.”

“Yeah?” Steve stared down at Bucky. He ran his hands over Bucky’s hair and down his neck.

“You seriously don’t know?” Bucky looked up. “Because it looked to me like you were torturing me on purpose.”

Steve blinked, confused. “Wha?”

Bucky scooted up and yanked at Steve’s two shirts. “Arms up.”

Steve obliged and was made shirtless in one quick move. He thumped back down on the bed.

Bucky stared at him. “You came home all sweaty and bruised. And you were blabbering a mile a second about damn circuitry and electric shock malfunctions and how long you’d had to train before getting a handle on the suit’s capabilities.”

“Yeah…” Steve uttered as Bucky sat up and yanked his own shirt and t-shirt off.

Wow.

Steve stared at Bucky’s chest. So wide, so strong, he wanted to bite it.

Bucky came closer, wiggling his hips over Steve’s. Oh, Steve was _so_ hard now.

“You fuckin’ teased me,” Bucky purred, kissing Steve between his pecs and down. “Came in here all sweaty and just started to drop you clothes like we had a maid or somethin’. Dropped yer damn shorts in the kitchen, kicked off your shoes and walked around in your damn panties and socks like it was nothin’.”

“They’re not _panties_ ,” Steve huffed loudly.

“What these?” Bucky was tugging Steve’s jeans off, revealing the briefs Steve preferred. They were green with pink watermelons floating around. Bucky had damn well bought them!

Bucky nuzzled at the hard bulge Steve was sporting.

“You were flappin’ around here in your skivvies just before lunch, and it wasn’t proper for me to just _take_ you then and there because you’d already invited Sam over for _lunch._ ”

“We had a great lunch,” Steve said, gasping as Bucky pulled his cock free.

“Yeah, okay, pal,” Bucky hummed, licking his way from root to tip. “You had fun. I, however, was sporting a stiffy for half of it. You know how hard it is to mellow me out when you get me going.”

Which was true; Once their supersoldier bodies got the engines going, it was nothing less than blunt trauma that could slow the blood flow.

“Is that why you tackled me after Sam left?” Steve gasped as Bucky sucked him down. “Oh, god, _Bucky_.”

Bucky hummed, spit sliding down Steve’s dick as he sucked happily on his favourite popsicle.

“Why didn’t–guh,” Steve twisted in the sheets, his toes curling.

Bucky made a sloppy mess of working Steve over. He jerked Steve off, pulling his mouth up and suckling for what felt like ages.

Steve was hard enough to detonate, it felt like.

Then there was a sneaky finger and it was all over. Bucky slipped in good and just _played_ Steve like a church piano on Sunday.

“Augh!” Steve babbled, feeling it all come to the top. Bucky pulled up wetly, gasping, and Steve shot his load up his own belly while Bucky watched, panting.

He’d learnt after much practise, that his orgasms weren’t exactly standard. Steve would just _gush_ , sometimes choking Bucky if he wasn’t too careful.

This time was no different, since Steve had been driven to madness in less than five minutes by a devilishly cruel partner who was sliding up his torso, tongue out.

Bucky lapped at Steve’s mess and growled.

He kissed Steve, making Steve taste the bitterness for himself. It was messy, their _bedroom_ was messy, _they_ were messy.

Steve shivered when Bucky pressed his hard cock into Steve’s hip.

He was still wearing jeans.

“Ooohhh,” Steve said in frustration. His hands found the rips in those jeans. There was warm skin there and he grabbed handfuls of Bucky’s ass.

Bucky laughed and gasped and ground himself into Steve.

“Suck me off?” Bucky purred, kissing Steve slowly.

Steve slapped his ass. “Get up here, then.”

Bucky didn’t wait for another order, he just sat up, hastily wriggled out of his jeans and his painfully tight boxers that barely held his massive cock at bay.

Oh, that _dick_.

This was what the Greek myths were built on. Cocks like this.

Bucky didn’t wait. He just crawled up the bed until his dick was hanging, tapping at Steve’s chin and lips.

“All righty,” Steve breathed, licking. “Gimme.”

He pulled Bucky into his mouth, hands on that amazing round ass.

Bucky wasn’t big on just blindly fucking into Steve’s mouth, so Steve always had to guide him.

Bucky’s legs were lax and he only supported himself with his hands on the bed, staring down at the top of Steve’s head.

“Oh, baby,” Bucky gasped. “Baby, _yesss…”_ he gasped out.

Steve pulled Bucky’s dick into his mouth, down as far as it would go. He still had a gag reflex, but was working on it. He wanted to fit more of Bucky into his mouth every occasion, and this time was no different. Bucky was _fine_ with this kind of training.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Bucky chanted, his hips stuttering in Steve’s hands.

Steve pulled him in tight, smelling Bucky, sucking Bucky. It was always so all-encompassing, having Bucky inside him in some way.

“Steve, Stevie,” Bucky pattered, “I’m gonna, I’m close. So close. Oh God, yes, baby, just like that. I love it when you suck me so good.”

Steve could feel Bucky hardening further, his balls tightening up.

Bucky obviously also knew.

He pushed himself up and made eye contact with Steve.

Bucky always looked shell-shocked this close to orgasm, like his every nerve was laid bare, his every thought on display.

He’d said once that it was terrifying, like he was being stripped to nothing.

But it was okay.

He was doing this with Steve and Steve was his everything anyway.

“Nnh!” Bucky’s voice hit a sharp note and he tried to pull out.

Steve held him fast and Bucky’s eyes widened.

Bucky’s ass clenched in Steve’s grip and hot come rushed into Steve’s mouth as Bucky trembled through his orgasm.

“Uh, uh,” Bucky grunted, watching Steve swallow and swallow like a real champ.

“H-holy f-fuck, Steve,” Bucky gasped, pulling himself free, the last dribbles just dripping down Steve’s cheek. “You maniac.”

Steve opened his mouth and licked at his lips, tasting Bucky.

His own breathing was laboured.

“That was amazing,” Steve said, his voice hoarse. “We gotta do that again.”

“I swear,” Bucky gasped, slowly wiggling his way down Steve’s body. He still shivered, muscles twitching. “You’re a real maniac, Rogers.”

Bucky thumped down on Steve with an ‘Oomf!’

Steve closed his eyes and curled himself around his big, strong Bucky.

“You’re still the only guy for me, Buck,” he slurred, kissing at Bucky’s ear and missing.

“You sound drunk,” Bucky breathed.

“I am drunk,” Steve hummed, “drunk on you.”

“Oh Jesus,” Bucky laughed. “thank god you’re with me pal,” he pushed himself up so as to stare down at Steve. “‘Cos I think if you’d gotten up close and personal with those _handsome_ strippers, you mighta just scared the panties right off ‘em.”

“Not _panties_ ,” Steve scowled. “They were wearing thongs, you idiot.”

“Oh, pardon me,” Bucky chuckled.

Steve stared at him for a moment, pondering.

Bucky raised a brow.

“Are you thinking about strutting around in thongs now? You know, I think they’d chafe in your Cap uniform.”

“No…” Steve uttered carefully. “I’m thinking about _you_ wearing some.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I started watching Altered Carbon and I'm not super into the gratuitous full female nudity when it's presented as just objectified THINGs for men to stare at and use. Especially if there isn't an equal representation of male nudity. Guy bums do not equal breasts and privates! Equal representation!!! GAWD. So I wanted to write something about a strip club that would make me less angry. I'm not an expert on anything, so this is pure PWP trash. :-)


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